


Die Happy

by jelazakazone



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 2012, M/M, Mind Control, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-06
Updated: 2012-04-06
Packaged: 2017-11-03 03:10:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/376460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jelazakazone/pseuds/jelazakazone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin wants Arthur to die happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Die Happy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Trojie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trojie/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A duty to obey](https://archiveofourown.org/works/351942) by [Trojie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trojie/pseuds/Trojie). 



> I had wanted to play with this idea since I saw 4.06 and when I saw this fic, it called to me. Thanks buckets and buckets to betas castmeaway and lewisian_gneiss. They held my hand all the way through this process and encouraged me. Any mistakes left are mine.

  
Merlin held still as Morgana writhed around him, despite wanting to recoil from her rank cloying breath and caressing hands.  
  
“Why are you so loyal to Arthur?”  
  
Merlin hesitated, and then cursed himself for it.  “I don't expect you to understand, Morgana. You have no sense of duty, no sense of loyalty.”  
  
Morgana had perceived his hesitation though, caught it, and was now reeling it in.  “Oh Merlin. And does he love you in return? Does he touch you? Or does he stay faithful to his maidservant slut and shut you out, when you are so loyal and so brave, and you want him so much? When you are so much more deserving than she?”  
  
Outwardly calm as cold hands snaked under his shirt, touching clammy skin, Merlin thought, “She’s got it all wrong,” but willed himself not give anything away.  He was good at keeping secrets.  
  
“He's never had you, has he? A shame, to waste this kind of willingness. I bet you'd let him take your mouth, wouldn't you?”  She held his face, in a cruel mockery of desire, and touched his lips lightly, “Let him feed his manhood over these lips. I'd wager you'd let him go further. And with no risk of bastard sons and daughters, I don't understand why he doesn't.”  
  
Her laughter chilled his blood and raised the hair on his arms.  “No matter. When I'm done, you won't give him a choice.  After all, I'm sure you'd like him to die,” she sneered, “happy.”  
  
Realization bloomed.  She was going to bend his will, somehow his very being, against his destiny.  Merlin’s heart sped up and his tongue stuck in his dry mouth. He walled off a part of his mind, hoping against hope that he could figure out how to break free once she was gone but before he’d harmed Arthur.  
  
“Ic ðe ðurhhæle ðinu licsar mid ðam sundorcræft ðære ealdan æ. Drycræft ðurhhæle ðina wunda!”  
  
****  
  
Merlin awoke, disoriented. His head felt stuffed with wool. There  was buzzing between his ears and he couldn’t he figure out why he was face down in a bog in the forest.  He mentally checked everything: arms and fingers, ok; legs and feet, ok; torso, ok.  His body was there, but he had no sensation.  
  
Morgana had clearly done something, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.  He remembered partitioning his mind, could feel it even now.  Used to hiding behind veils that he’d built with his words, this was like being behind a fortress wall someone else had built with only a narrow slit to look through.  
  
“Declare yourself,” someone called out, startling Merlin out of his thoughts, and then, as if his body were a wooden puppet controlled by strings, he felt himself impelled out of the copse.    
  
Merlin’s body embraced Arthur; Merlin’s mouth smiled; Merlin’s mind panicked.  
  
Arthur ordered Merlin to ride with Gwaine. Merlin’s body responded to the warmth of the knight’s body. They had shared many lovely times between the sheets, and Merlin liked thinking about those times. He thought nothing of it when he found himself becoming aroused; riding behind Gwaine often had that effect. However, as his arousal mounted and his thoughts veered towards the king, he became confused.  
  
****  
  
Back at the castle, words came out of his mouth, disparaging Arthur for preferring Gwen, and he found himself disdainful of her,  Gwen, one of his best friends .    
  
“Look, I know you like to take every opportunity to be by his side,” Merlin said derisively as he tried to serve Arthur a dinner he’d made, “but this is just getting ridiculous. You'll be pouring his bath water next.”  
  
Why was he doing these terrible things?  Why was he saying horrible things to people he loved?  How could the phrase, “I just want to return to my normal duties” sound so mean? Merlin was a stranger in his own body. He could barely connect his mind with his movements, or even the words coming out of his mouth. If he was clumsier as well, no one commented.   
  
****  
  
All his thoughts revolved around getting Arthur in bed. He sucked off a carrot while he fisted his cock; his dick felt the warmth of his hand and the smooth skin of his palm, although his hand felt numb.   
  
****  
  
Merlin grumbled as he prepared the warm water for Arthur’s bath.  Normally, he’d just use a little magic to heat the water, but either Morgana’s spell or his own partitioning had left him bereft of the power he needed.  Tub full, he poured in erotic salts and Merlin’s thoughts clicked together, like the tumblers in a lock as he stirred the bath water.   His body was trying to woo Arthur .  He had realized that he had lost control of his body, but he hadn’t known  why .  The situation chilled him to the bone, especially when he remembered Morgana’s last words: “I’m sure you’d want him to  die happy .”  If Merlin could have shivered, he would have.    
  
Instead, he carried on, woodenly preparing the bath, wondering how he was going to stop himself.   
  
****  
  
When he awoke, Gaius asked, “How’s your head?”  
  
“How’d you know my head would be hurting?”  
  
“Gwen hit you over the head to keep you from romancing Arthur.” He stopped and chuckled, “Erotic salts, Merlin? Well, now that I see you’ve recovered, I’ll get back to my work.  We’re in short supply of that fever remedy after last week’s outbreak.”  
  
Merlin nodded as he left, and rubbed his head.  When Gaius had mentioned Arthur’s name, a wave of desire had swept over Merlin and he was glad he’d been lying down for he was sure it would have knocked him over otherwise.  Well, he desired Arthur.  That thought felt weird.  Merlin groaned with frustration.  The wooly feeling had not cleared and he was tired of trying to figure out what was happening.  
  
He tumbled ideas through the dense fog that inhibited clear thought and came to the conclusion that he should give in.  Maybe, he hoped against hope, if he tried not to fight the fog, he would have more control.  Maybe, if he tried to bed Arthur, the king would figure out what was going on and would stop him.  He’d been trained to kill since birth, after all.  Surely he’d have the upper hand.  
  
An oily feeling washed over him as he spun the scenario out in his mind.  He saw himself ready his body for Arthur and then tumble into bed to hold a knife to Arthur’s throat as they coupled .  He reeled in horror and balked. This was not his destiny and Morgana was not going to win this way.  Merlin did want Arthur to die happy, but not now and not this way.   
  
Merlin angrily attempted to take the edge off the ridiculous compulsion to fuck Arthur and kill him while doing it.  He scrabbled for purchase in his own mind, trying to figure out how to break the spell.   
  
****  
  
Merlin discovered that having some distance from Arthur and putting his body in motion freed his mind an inch.  
  
“Merlin, are you all right?”  
  
“I--I'm pacing.”  
  
“Yes, I can see that.”  
  
“A man who is all right does not pace, Gaius.”  
  
“Oh, well, that's why I asked.”  
  
“I am wrestling with a problem and there are many factors to take into consideration, and I have not yet come up with a solution.”  
  
“Can I be of assistance?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Would you like to share the problem with me?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Sometimes two heads are better than one.”  
  
“Yes. But not when one of them's yours.”  
  
Merlin felt ashamed that he’d been rude to Gaius, and guilty that he’d not asked for help already.  He knew he was digging himself deeper, but the walking had helped.  Thoughts of Arthur had squeezed out almost all of himself he’d protected; he’d nearly forgotten his own magic -- pacing had jogged his memory.  He decided he would try one thing before appealing to Gauis for help.  He wanted to solve this problem independently.   
  
Merlin waited until dark before leaving the castle for the forest.  He wasn’t sure this was going to work, but he knew it was his only chance.  His breath had started out ragged as he waged an inner war for control.  His feet had not wanted to walk away from the castle.  He had begun with a trudge, but being in the forest, on this path, his body remembered. A stiff walk turned into an easy run and then he was practically flying, muscles moving in concert as they’d done so many time before.  A trickle of magic flowed into him, spiraling in his gut.  
  
Power built as he reached the clearing and cried out, “ O drakon, e male so ftengometla tesd'hup'anankes !”   
  
Merlin clapped his hands to his ears, protecting them from the buffeting winds made by dragon wings.  He didn’t know if he shook from the cold or the relief he felt at seeing Kilgharrah.  Although the magic had freed him a little, he was only able to stand in front of the dragon through a great force of will.  
  
The Great Dragon laughed. “Oh, young dragonlord.  You did not heed my advice and Morgana has caused you trouble anew.”  
  
“Please, Kilgharrah,” Merlin heard himself whine, “can you heal me? Can you break the enchantment?”  
  
“ I can.”  
  
Merlin looked at him attentively, waiting for him to continue.  
  
“I have told you many times the witch must die. You must keep this in mind in the future.”  
  
Merlin gasped.  “Anything.  Whatever you say.  Just, please, release me from this enchantment.”  
  
Kilgharrah’s sweet healing breath surrounded Merlin. As the comforting warmth dissipated,   Merlin took mental stock and found his mind whole again -- the partition was down.  He’d felt vulnerable behind the wall; now he discovered an expansiveness in himself.    
  
Merlin sank onto the damp ground, overwhelmed with sensations, restored. Relief flooded him, making his limbs heavy. He breathed in deeply through his nose, taking in the smell of moist dirt, grass, wet leaves, and animal scents that were carried on the wind.  Moisture dampened his clothes.  Merlin rubbed the ground, focusing on the grass tickling his palms and fingertips.  When he opened his eyes, he realized that he’d been missing colors.  Colors!  How had he not noticed?    
  
He lay on the ground for a long time, revelling in his unity before springing up with renewed energy.  
  
His walk back to the castle was a contrast to his exit.  He walked lightly, with no fear. Any lightheadedness he might have been feeling he chalked up to the relief of being free.  
  
That night, as he went to prepare Arthur’s chamber, he whistled as he worked, happy to have resumed his normal duties.  When Arthur entered the room, he said, “Ah, Merlin.  You can have the evening off. I think I can manage for myself tonight.”  
  
Merlin nodded, heart sinking a little as he walked out the door.  He wondered at his ambivalence. He realized that even though he was whole, he had not escaped unscathed.    
  
Alone in his own chambers, he took his cock in hand and thought of Arthur, whom he hoped had many years before he faced his death.

**Author's Note:**

> [ read on LJ here](http://jelazakazone.livejournal.com/579124.html)


End file.
